


The Wooing of the Robot Girlfriend

by jjjat3am



Series: Ode to Dorian's circuitry [1]
Category: Almost Human
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/jjjat3am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's programming doesn't include a manual on how to deal with falling in love with John Kennex. </p>
<p>It takes some hacking, an embarrassing situation and Rudy Lom's shady backstory to get them on the right track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wooing of the Robot Girlfriend

**Author's Note:**

> The accompanying meta on android memory storage can be found [here](http://jjjat3am.tumblr.com/post/69294886045/thoughts-on-dorians-memory), on my tumblr  
> Set somewhere after ep. 4, I guess.

 

 

 

 

"Here's my stop. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late this time!"

 

"Yeah, yeah. Are you going to be okay with that?" John gestures towards the haphazardly patched holes in Dorian's head.

 

"Rudy will fix it tomorrow. Are you worried about me, Reginald?" The regenerative cells around the wound are already working, so there shouldn’t be anything to show for his efforts tomorrow, but it warms him to see the detective showing some concern, even if he’s trying to cover it up.

 

"Oh come off it. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

John drives away, the big black car protesting with a screech of tires. Dorian heads through the doors of the Unit Storage Division, scanners shifting through his access codes as he goes. His biopod is waiting for him, exactly as he left it that morning, except that the old-style book he'd been reading had fallen to the floor. Dorian picks it up and places it on the shelf next to his ‘bed’. He settles into the biopod with a tired sigh.

 

The effect is instantaneous, the pod's information channels syncing with his. He starts the laborious process of sorting out his memories of the day, storing it into his allotted databanks.

 

The smells get broken to their smallest components and stored with labels of their origin ( _Detective Stahl's perfume, the metallic smell of gunpowder, the warm smell of John's noodles_ ).  The sounds are ranged according to decibels and potential damage to hearing ( _John's prosthetic, birds chirping, explosion_ ). Taste is omitted entirely. He’s had no reason to use the analyzers in his mouth today. He's saving them for some particularly disgusting piece of evidence, just to see the face John will make when he does.

 

Pressure is tricky, because he has to carefully sort through the messages that are just his body movement ( _press of foot on pavement, scrape of a wall against his back_ ) from the textures ( _the smoothness of the rail, blood from John's cut, warmth of a coffee cup_ ).

 

He saves sight for last. Millions of pictures flash through his interface, saved into his long term data banks for quick access. It's not until he gets to the most recent logs that he slows down and then stops completely. There, recorded perfectly in his sensors, is John from the car ride to the noodle joint. There's bags under his eyes ( _trouble sleeping?_ ) and his lips are chapped ( _dehydrated? chapstick in his jacket?_ ), but he's smiling. He's laughing at Dorian singing along to that old song, and his face is brighter for it. He looks...fond. Dorian hesitates.

 

He's supposed to store all information to his long term databanks, leaving space for new information in his short term storage, but this time he can’t seem to bring himself to let the image out of his head.

 

Dorian worries over the image for a while and then decides to leave it in his short term memory for the time being. The feeling it gives him is curious and his problem-solving interfaces don't seem to be able to tell him what it is. Therefore it is only logical for him to save it and let them work on it for a while.

 

He stores the coding back in his memory and continues with the process.

 

 

*

 

 

He doesn’t make the conscious decision to keep the picture at the forefront of his user interface, but that is where it stays. It is the first thing he wakes up to and the last thing he sees before he opens the memory channels.

 

 

*

 

 

On any given day, Dorian has a substantial amount of problem solving sub-units working on different processes. Most are devoted to detective work, to the case he and John are working on at the moment. Some are running diagnostics and searching through MX databases, looking for links between the cases. One is devoted entirely to John’s dating profile on UniformDating.com and another is solving a complicated crossword puzzle he’s copied off the morning paper. Dorian likes to keep busy.

 

However, there are a few sub-units that he tries his best to keep hidden even from Rudy’s diagnostics and the daily maintenance sweep. Those are devoted almost entirely to the feeling he gets when John is smiling at him, when he’s proud of him, when he teases back. Those programs have Kennex written all over them in block letters and have just as stubbornly given him absolutely no usable information since the moment he started them.

 

He’s got absolutely no explanation of why the detective can affect his mood as drastically as too improve it instantly with a kinder deposition and destroy it completely with a sharply aimed word. It’s not logical and it would probably fry an MX’s circuitry completely if it got access to it. Good thing Dorian hides it so jealously.

 

He’s got no explanation as to why his sexual harassment sub-units don’t light up with a warning when he teases John with the coffee or why he enjoys the detective’s blush so much. It’s not written in his manuals and he’s got nothing to compare it to. It just is.

 

Work makes it easy to avoid his confusion, even when working with the source of it. Dorian is, after all, made to be a cop. And he’s not about to lose that just because John Kennex adds an extra skip to his step when it’s definitely not written in his motorical sequences.

 

Still, it's easy to avoid the problem, even as their relationship improves. Dorian soon learns that John Kennex has a hard time responding to kindness and politeness, but sharp words and veiled insults bring a fire to his eye that never fails to make him grin and return fire. It's good between them, comfortable.

 

Until one day Rudy takes him aside as John is engaged in discussing suspect profiles with detective Stahl. Dorian hesitates before leaving them alone, having watched them gravitate closer in their desk chairs over the last hour. Still, he has no reason to refuse Rudy's request and his Input sensor C127 has been a bit wonky after a fight with a criminal. Rudy would know how to fix it.

 

When they enter Rudy's lab, the inventor seems uncharacteristically nervous. Well, okay, he's nervous usually, he just seems especially edgy this time, playing with random object from the shelves and mumbling something about finding the right tools.

The synthetic head he seems to work on so often wakes up and follows him around the room with its eye sensors. Dorian realizes with a start that the head belongs to a DRN unit like himself. Curious, because he thought that the last batch was scheduled for scrap metal just last week. He was supposed to be in that group and doesn't that give him the Heebie-jeebies ( _his colloquialism routines need an update STAT_ ).

 

After the third time Rudy clears his throat, Dorian decides to interrupt.

 

"What did you need, Rudy? Because I wanted to ask you to look at a sensor..."

 

"Eh, right. Righto. The C127? Have a seat then." Dorian does and watches his legs dangle over the edge of the table as Rudy runs diagnostics. Rudy coughs again and begins to speak.

 

"The DRN units are very different to other androids, you know."

 

"Yes, Rudy, I'm aware of that. I'm one of them, remember?"

 

"Cheeky bugger." mutters Rudy, grinning at him, before he sobers up again. "No, I meant...the first DRN weren't necessarily made with police work in mind. That came later, when we realized that the needs - and the funding - were the highest in that particular field. In the original plans they were meant for a lot more.”

 

"But I'm programmed for police work, right?"

 

"Of course you are, but that is not all you're capable off."

 

Rudy touches his cheek with one of his instruments ( _Adapter level code 12..._ ) and the coding flashes brightly, causing Dorian to wince. The sensor starts transmitting.

 

"What kind of things were the DRN's supposed to be used for?" Rudy clears his throat.

 

"Well you know. Traffic control, hospital staff...companionship."

 

"Companionship? Are you telling me I'm a sexbot prototype?" Rudy drops the whole toolbox.

 

"No! No! I mean..."cough" DRN's can sympathize, the can feel, are able to give comfort. I mean companion as in a companion to the sick and hurt...and lonely."

 

"So sexbot?"

 

"Sexbots are not the point! Who disabled your sexual harassment sub-units anyway?"

 

Dorian just laughs at him.

 

"See that's what I'm talking about." Rudy paces slowly to the head on the shelf. "You can laugh, you can smile and if need be, you can cry."  He lifts a hand and rests it against its cheek. It seems to Dorian that it moves a little to lean into the touch and a beatific smile stretches across its tired face.

 

"This does not make you ideal for police work..."

 

"Hey!"

 

"I'm not saying you're bad at it! Just not ideal. Do you know that only ten DRN's actually saw real action?"

 

"But that's not fair! Why do we get called the crazy ones, when we're actually modeled after humans?"

 

"See, a MX would never think to ask that question. I know you hack their servers sometimes - which is actually a criminal offense by the way - but they don't have the answers you want."

 

"You accessed my data logs? That's private!"

 

"I needed the answer to the morning crossword puzzle; tickets to the Stark Expo are the main prize!"

 

"So you stole them from my servers? Cheater!"

 

"What the hell are you two doing? Dorian come on, we have a case." John walks in on them squaring off in the lab, Rudy brandishing a sonic powered screwdriver like a weapon with the severed head grinning in the background and Dorian’s information net flashing blue, because he’s trying to reprogram Rudy’s high school picture as his screen saver.

 

 

 

*

 

 

It hadn't actually occurred to him that the other DRN's had had their own separate data banks and he's cursing himself for not figuring it out sooner. Of course the MXs' servers were useless to his current predicament; they didn't have the coding for it.

 

Now that he's aware of them, the channels connecting him to the other units are obvious. They were obviously meant to be part of a network and Dorian spends a moment imagining it; hundreds of others, just like him, to complain about your partners to, to share advice and information. Brothers and sisters. All of them now a part of NASA's new and improved space program. Dorian represses a shudder.

 

He hacks the passcode to unit 0164 easily enough. Her name was Diana. While a capable police officer, she didn't have a good relationship with her partner, which seems to be the reason why she was eventually decommissioned. Her story is interesting, and while he gains some interesting pieces of advice ( _he'll have to try the one with the police lights and a Christmas tree when John is particularly grumpy_ ), her data is not what he's looking for.

 

The next unit is much harder to access. His name was Darius. His data banks are...strange. There is data missing, the code terminated in crucial places. It's almost as if someone did a sweep of the place. Dorian finds pictures of Darius' partner, detective Mona Davies hidden amongst the edges, but not much else.

He then notices a strange strain of coding, seemingly ending and simultaneously multiplying in the synapses. Dorian pokes at it from several angles and has no success until he reverses the script and...oh. Oh. That was surprising.  Rudy never said.

 

Well, that explained a few things.

 

He downloads the data and sets his programs to work on it. Tomorrow might be a good time for another chat with Rudy Lom and the work he did on the DRN units.

 

 

*

 

 

The problem solving algorithm dissolves while Dorian is in the car with John the next day. His synapses go haywire, causing the radio to play several stations at once and his facial muscles to spasm, while his organism tries to assimilate the new information.

 

"The fuck is wrong with you?" John is watching him, hands resting on the steering wheel. He actually looks concerned. He's also not paying attention to the road.

 

"I...I'm in love."

 

The car swerves into oncoming traffic. John rights it just in time and they spend a few moments in silence, catching their breaths, amidst the blaring of the car horns and angry cursing.

 

"You almost killed us just now."

 

"It wouldn't have happened if you kept your mouth shut."

 

"Well, you weren't paying any attention to the road!"

 

"Dorian, please shut up." The detective looks legitimately stressed and his prosthetic is beeping again, so Dorian does as he says.

 

He's got bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that he's in love with his partner, who currently looks disturbingly close to throwing him out of the car. They drive in silence.

 

Later, right as they're exiting the car to enter the precinct:

 

"If you ask me for any kissing advice, so help me god..."

 

 

*

 

 

The whole falling in love thing is very strange. Dorian thought that the whole arsenal of love songs and turn of the century smut fanfictions he downloaded into his data banks would be helpful, but apparently not. ( _He did however, learn of 500 different phrases for a penis. One helped him complete the crossword puzzle that morning_ )

 

Mostly he was surprised at how utterly unchanged he felt. He was still exasperated over his detective's apparent need to put himself in harm’s way, his overwhelming pessimism and total disregard for other people's feelings, his sharp eye, his smile, his figure in police issue pants...( _what was going on with his sexual harassment sub-units? he almost catcalled John yesterday when he was bending over evidence_ )

 

"Stop dreaming about your robot girlfriend, we have some new evidence." John's hand clapping him on the shoulder as he passes by his chair distracts him enough to not register his words until the detective is half way up the stairs. Dorian springs after him.

 

"I do not have a robot girlfriend." He catches up with him right as he strides through the door where the Chief is waiting with detectives Stahl and Paul. Rudy is standing near the screens as well and Dorian is reminded that he still needs to question him extensively about the data in Darius' servers.

 

"All that we have left of the suspect is this." Detective Stahl puts a small black button on the table. "It's a very simplistic memory key, with a protection strong enough to stump all of our technicians."

 

Dorian feels for the data strain the device is emitting. It's strangely familiar. "Have you tried having a synthetic unit sync with it?"

 

"The MX that tried instantly short circuited. His short term memory is irreplaceably damaged." Rudy says, fiddling with a pencil.

 

"But what if you were there to guide the transmission? I sync with it, you outsource my short term memory onto the screen?" This way the channel he's feeling his way around wouldn't be able to damage his coding.

 

"Alright, do it." orders Chief Maldonado, nodding to Rudy, who starts typing in commands on the pad.

 

"Wait a second! Dorian, can this hurt you?" John grasps his forearm, stilling his hand, where he's been unconsciously poking at the cube. He looks worried and Dorian's synapses rejoice at the thought, flooding his body with a trail of indecipherable data.

 

"I'll be fine, John. I'll be serving as a conduct for the data and because it has somewhere to go, it shouldn't be able to overload me like it did the MX."

 

The detective is still frowning, but he backs off and Dorian opens up the channel.

 

The video starts playing on the screen, giving up the suspect's current hideout and directly implicating her in the murder at the same time. The data starts running out and Dorian shuts off the channel to the device. Then the unthinkable happens. The treacherous picture, stored so carefully at the forefront of his short term memory appears on the screen for the whole precinct to view.

 

John Kennex on the screen looks up from the steering wheel and smiles so tenderly and warmly that Dorian can hear Chief Maldonado let out a quiet gasp. Illuminated by the passing gaslight he looks devastatingly beautiful, exactly as Dorian saw him that night.

 

The John Kennex standing next to him is another picture entirely. His face is a mask and his hands are balled into fists. He storms out of the precinct, Dorian trailing behind him at a total loss for words.

 

John doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day.

 

               

*

 

 

They're driving back from the scene; suspect safely cuffed and sent off with the MXs. It's the part of the evening where they’d usually go to some restaurant where Dorian would watch John eat and they would insult each other and Dorian would read John the replies on his dating profiles, but with the way the detective has been silently fuming all day, Dorian suspects they'll be heading back to the precinct for his transfer paperwork.

 

Instead they take an unfamiliar turn, onto a highway heading for the suburbs. John starts getting progressively more agitated as the drive goes on, accelerating and breaking erratically when they get cut off by a particularly persistent trucker. When he takes a sharp turn onto a regional street and cuts off an old lady in a Hybrid Toyota Hovercar, almost causing a pile up, Dorian reaches out to pacify him.

 

John takes a sharp turn, bringing them into a dimly lit parking lot. He cuts the engine and the car falls silent.

 

"Was that supposed to be some kind of a joke?" John won't meet his eyes, staring determinately out the windshield. He looks tired. "I don't look like that. That wasn't me."

 

"What are you talking about? Of course it's you." Dorian looks at him quizzically. "Look I understand if you don't want to be my partner anymore, but please...this is my last shot."

 

"Who said anything about not being partners anymore?" Dorian has to suppress a sigh of relief at that. At least he still gets to be a police officer.

 

John still won't look at him.

 

"Well you've been sulking all day today, what was I supposed to think?" John suddenly turns and Dorian gets a good look at his face. His expression is closed off and unfamiliar, the dim lighting sending shadows across his face.

 

"I was not sulking!" He looks vulnerable, almost desperate. He looks like he gets after five beers, when he whispers about the life he's lost against the lapels of Dorian's jacket. In a flash of data, Dorian understands.

 

"John...you're the robot girlfriend."

 

"I'm the what?" Dorian leans over the console, the parking brake digging uncomfortably into his side. He looks at John, willing him to understand and reads the momentary flash of realization illuminate his face when he does.

 

And that's when John kisses him, hand gripping the lapels of his jacket and reeling him in.

 

It's a surreal experience, because he doesn't have a lot of pressure sensors on his lips and the analyzers in his mouth start to quantify the components of John's breath and saliva almost immediately (low blood sugar, 0% alcohol content, not enough iron...). It's worth it for the little groan John makes when he starts kissing him back, data gained from Darius helping him along.

 

Dorian pulls back when he feels John's pulse slow down. The detective is panting and his eyes are dark.

 

"Still think I need kissing advice?" John grins and licks his lips, moving their foreheads together.

 

"You could use the practice."

 

They continue kissing in that abandoned parking lot until a MX on patrol knocks on their car window and they drive back, grinning like idiots.

 

That night, when he's sorting out the memories of the day, Dorian replaces the picture of John in his short term memory with another. Then, just for kicks, he replaces every mention of John Kennex in his data banks with My Robot Girlfriend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://jjjat3am.tumblr.com/), come say hi!
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> And don't worry about Rudy and the mysterious Darius. Explanation coming soon :D


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